


a silent hour, a golden mile

by pageofpentacles



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, M/M, One Shot, Richie Tozier Flirts, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21991480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageofpentacles/pseuds/pageofpentacles
Summary: Richie has been dreaming about Eddie, but this time, he decides to turn his dreams into a reality.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 134





	a silent hour, a golden mile

It's 4am, and Richie is staring at the cracks in his popcorn wall ceiling like it's a Michelangelo piece. It's 4am, and Richie's hands are buried into his thighs, nails leaving crescents in pale skin. It's 4am, and he had been dreaming about Eddie. Again. 

A fucking disease. Criminal, to be safe and sound, asleep in your bed while someone parades through your mind. He couldn't breathe, not with Eddie on his mind, in his ears, on his lips. The places where dream Eddie touched him burned, stung, fireworks branching in perfect geometry under his skin. Richie's bones ached with a familiarity only present in the absence of Eddie. 

He scrambled out of the house with an otherworldly ferocity, no jackets to shield him from the autumn air, a sickness in his mouth and the cure within Eddie's lips. 

Richie got on his bike and flew to the Kaspbrak residence. No wall, no locked window could deter him from entering. He rapped on the glass with a deafening softness, startling a sleeping Eddie into awakening. Richie's smile only grew as he approached the window, grumpy and dishevelled. Eddie rubbed at his eyes, arms lifting to reveal just a sliver of the skin beneath his navel. Richie's fingertips were aflame on the windowsill. 

"It's fucking four am asshole, what do you want from me?" Eddie's voice was sweeter than the dessert wine Richie had at dinner. Richie tumbled with minimal grace into the room. 

"What does it look like, my little Eddie Spaghetti? I'm here for my appointment with your mo-" 

"Beep beep, Rich." 

Richie stood up, a lanky mess nearly two heads taller than the boy standing in front of him. Eddie looked him up and down, searching for an explanation of the intrusion. Richie was more than happy to tell him. 

"Eds, I had a nightmare again. Nothing big, but you know how much it means to be here with you." He scratched at the nape of his neck, unruly curls rearranging into something bearing semblance to a bird's nest. 

"Oh." Eddie exhaled into a little whine. "What was it about this time?"

This, this was the question he had been waiting for. Sometimes he couldn't help himself, and today was one of those times. But today was oh so different. Richie had had enough of dreaming, and if bringing dreams into reality broke friendships, then so be it. There are more cruel ways to die than when knowing your feelings are known. 

"You." Richie shrugged it off like it was meaningless. The word rolled off his tongue so nonchalantly, with such a calm tone, that it took Eddie a moment. "Me? What's… What's that supposed to mean?" He was pensive in his reply, staring straight into Richie's soul with an unwavering confusion. 

"That means," Richie hooked an arm around Eddie's waist, pulling him in. Eddie gasped a little, but didn't dare move. Richie leaned down to whisper in his ear. "That means you're torturing me."

There was an audible gulp. 

"That means that you're on my mind every, single, goddamn second of every day. That means that I can't stand it anymore. Eds, it means I want more. More than this, more than friends, more of you."

The way Richie spoke sent lightning through Eddie's spine, a jolt settling in his stomach, pooling down to weaken his knees. Eddie had spent years wondering what this moment would be like. Him, confessing his feelings to Richie. Richie, laughing it off, twisting it into some poorly formatted 'your mom' joke. But he had never expected this. Blood roared in his ears, his body sick with desire, the air between them charged with it. 

Eddie balled his fists into Richie's shirt, pulling him close until their bodies were flush against each other and their hearts beat faster than humanly possible. 

"Fucking take it then."

The bastard took his sweet time doing it. Richie smiled with his teeth, arm sneaking up under Eddie's shirt. His cold, spindly fingers felt their way around his scapula, trailing ever so gently down the nerves in his spine. "Fuck" Eddie managed between heavy breaths. Richie lifted his hand, preparing to move away. "You stop and I'll curb-stomp you till your gums bleed."

Richie laughed at that, something little, something so filled with love that it calmed Eddie's core. And Richie took both of his hands, rubbing circles into his wrists. Maybe it was being starved for this long, maybe it was the heat of the moment, or maybe it was just Richie, but it felt so, so good. 

Richie, however, was busy drinking Eddie in. His face was flushed in shades of red so deep you'd think he broke a blood vessel. And his eyes were glazed over with the heat of it, lashes fluttering in a delicate dance. 

"Eds. Eddie. Eddie Spaghetti. Cute, cute, cute." Richie nosed into the space between his neck and shoulder, pressing a kiss against the sensitive skin. Eddie responded by tangling his fingers into Richie's hair, humming in appreciation. 

"Leave a mark, please. I want a reminder that this wasn't all a dream when I wake up." Eddie gasped as Richie sunk his teeth into his neck.

The unfairness of it made Eddie bristle at the edges, so he splayed his fingers flat onto Richie's ribs, tracing the grooves in between. And Richie must've liked it, judging by the muffled, tremulous moan that bubbled past his lips. He pushed Eddie onto the bed, separating their bodies only to press his knee between the other's thighs. 

Eddie clasped a hand over his mouth to cover a string of curses. Richie could do nothing but grin. "I love you, Eddie. I love you so much. You're just making it infinitely harder to restrain myself."

With that, Richie kissed him. Gentle, soft and caring. He couldn't describe the feeling if he tried. Flowers blooming into his skull, sprigs of lavender bursting through his throat. And fire, raw, crimson flames, flowering everywhere. He breathed Richie in, the distinct scent of tobacco and clove and salty, citrus sweat. Eddie decided right then that this was his favorite scent in the world. 

Surprisingly, it was Eddie that deepened the kiss, tongue swiping along Richie's lips. "Needy, aren't we" Richie breathed, and Eddie took off his glasses. 

They kissed for what felt like hours, tangled until every nerve in both of them was on fire. Tongue and teeth, Richie's hands on Eddie's hips and Eddie straddling him. Nothing felt real anymore, not when the craving of skin on skin evolved into the need of Richie on Eddie, Eddie on Richie.

It was only them, the two of them, and dawn eventually filtered through the window, rays of amber sunlight glistening against skin. A silent warning that soon they'd have to part. 

"Richie." Eddie murmured softly against Richie's shoulder. "I love you too."

"Aw shucks, Eds, didn't think you'd warm up to me that fast. I mean, I'm going to have to dump your mom to make this work, but I'd do anything for you." Richie straightened himself, standing up from the bed and stretching. Eddie took liberty in watching the muscles in his back. 

"Shut up, Trashmouth. I take it back, you're insufferable." Eddie glanced at the clock. 6:22. His mom would come wake him up anytime now. 

"You know you love it Eds." Richie winked as he slid his glasses back on. 

Richie slipped out the window, kissing Eddie one more time for good measure. Eddie watched him leave, a smile on his lips and an arrow through his heart. Mr. Tozier was to blame for that. Eddie strolled to the bathroom, lighter than he had been in years. He gasped at the blooms of violet and red across his throat. 

"You're so dead, Rich."

Somewhere across town, pedalling as fast as his legs could take him, Richie smirked at the thought.


End file.
